


Blue Lust

by faerierequiem



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Cock Warming, Come Swallowing, Dubious Consent, Friends to Lovers, Gratuitous Smut, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prostitution, Riding, Urination, Watersports, au where ignis isn't noctis's advisor, starring prompto as the ultimate wingman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27933529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faerierequiem/pseuds/faerierequiem
Summary: The guilt and discomfort grows inside of Ignis's chest as his mind fills with thoughts that by simply looking, Noctis knows, knows what Ignis does and what he was doing when the heir to the Lucian throne came into his thoughts last night.(i hate writing summaries, so until i can think up something better, let's stick with this)
Relationships: Ignis Scientia/Original Male Character(s), Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Blue Lust

**Author's Note:**

> alternate titles:  
> \- "blue light district" (was heavily considering this one, almost was going to stick with it at first)  
> \- "the prince and the prostitute" (this one should be a subtitle or something lbr)
> 
> the uploading schedule for this fic will be inconsistent. i already have the second chapter written up, but i don't want to post it up until i've got the third chapter written and so forth (that way i can stay a chapter ahead). you have been warned.

It’s a loud sound and a sharp but hushed “not like that!” that brings Ignis’s attention to the table in the furthest left corner. There’s no one else in the room—most people are not very interested in astronomy books on a daily basis—so a warning to be quiet is at the back of Ignis’s thoughts, but he wants to make sure that nothing has gone on that would be getting anyone in trouble. He’s in charge of making sure things go accordingly in this part of the library after all, the old and mostly blue spines of books lining his side as he walks at a brisk pace to check on what has happened.

To his surprise, he finds—of all people—the Prince, sitting with the golden retriever of a boy that Ignis sees following him everywhere at school. Ignis has never caught what his name is, but he can see that the boy is the cause of the noise by the sheepish expression on his face and the books that have fallen onto the table in front of him. His eyes flicker at Ignis and widen, guilt growing on his face.

“Ah, sorry,” he says, running a hand through his blond hair.

Ignis revises the lecture in his mind, deciding to cut it shorter given how the boy is apparently aware of himself. “Please make sure to handle the books with care.”

“Yeah, sure thing. It was my bad.”

Ignis glances at the Prince, who’s sitting with his back facing Ignis and who has not spoken throughout the brief exchange. He’s about to leave them to whatever they are doing before he remembers his etiquette. This _is_ the heir to the throne of Lucis and his friend that Ignis is dealing with. He shouldn’t forget his manners. “Is there anything either of you could use any assistance with?”

Ignis notices the blond boy—he nicknames him “Blondie” in his head—exchanging a glance with the Prince, who remains quiet, and assumes the answer will be a “no,” but then Blondie speaks up again. “Actually, we’re working on a project for a class right now and, uh, do you have recommendations for something on…?” He trails off and Ignis doesn’t miss the look he sends the Prince, _help_ visibly written in the way his eyes widen for a quick moment. Ignis finds it odd that he doesn’t know what topic he’s doing a research project on.

“Constellations,” the Prince finally mutters, almost too low for Ignis to hear if not for how quiet the seconds leading up to his word had been.

“Yeah.” Blondie nods, looking relieved. “Constellations!”

Ignis nears closer to the table. “Is it alright if I look at what you’ve already got?”

There’s a millisecond where Blondie looks at the Prince, but then he’s moving his chair back with a “yeah, sure!” to make way for Ignis to peer at the books. The cover of the book that’s on top is an old but classic guide to constellations. When he scans the titles of the rest of the books, he sees that the two have already compiled a good collection of material. He tells them so. “I’m not sure I’ll be able to be of much help. It looks like you both know what you’re doing.”

Blondie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s all Noctis here. All of these are his books. We, um, came here to get some new stuff.”

Ignis nods. “I see.” The Prince is still quiet, but Ignis catches sight of his hands in his lap, the nail of his right thumb scratching against the back of his left hand. He’s surprised to discover that the Prince is a fan of astronomy, but it’s a pleasant surprise. He wouldn’t have guessed that the Prince would have this interest, but then again, it’s hard to guess what a person is interested in if one doesn’t know them very well. All Ignis knows is the basics of what everyone else knows, which doesn’t amount to very much, and all he’s learned from the couple of times he’s seen the Prince in the hallways at school is that Blondie is his closest—and perhaps, only—friend.

“Would it help if I wrote a list of recommendations?” Ignis asks.

There’s a pause and then Ignis is surprised by the Prince flinching next to him. He looks in time to see the Prince flashing a glare at Blondie and then to see Blondie tilting his head in Ignis’s direction. He’s not sure what the nonverbal conversation is about, but it’s not giving him a clear answer on rather or not his offer has been accepted.

He’s about to ask again when the Prince nods. “That’d be nice… Thanks.”

Ignis takes a step back from the table. “Alright. Feel free to browse around the shelves while you wait.”

The Prince nods again. “Okay.”

Ignis isn’t far from the table when he hears a loud, inaudible whisper. He looks over his shoulder and sees the Prince punching Blondie in the arm, but his face is turned away and the mock expression of pain on Blondie’s face shows that the punch hasn’t been enough to hurt. Ignis wonders what situation he’s found himself in—it’s certainly one he’s going to remember, but from what he’s seen, this is the way the two normally interact with each other, so he doesn’t dwell on what the context could be.

* * *

The Prince and Blondie stay longer than Ignis expects. The sunlight through the windows has begun to dim by the time he sees them walking out from the bookshelves, both carrying a bag full of books, with Blondie chattering away as usual. Ignis gives them a wave as they pass by. The Prince keeps his head down and doesn’t look in his direction, but Blondie returns the wave.

“See ya!”

Ignis nods. “Have a nice night.” He returns to reading the book he’s got in his hands, but from out of the corner of his eyes, he can see the two coming to a stop and Blondie nudging the Prince in the arm. He shifts a bit away from their direction to give them privacy, focusing his attention back on the text. It’s an interesting take on the psychology behind the creation of astrology; one of the more enthralling reads Ignis has done this year. He’s about to turn the page when he hears a throat being cleared close to him and looks up, blinking in surprise at the sight of the Prince standing on the other side of the desk.

He closes his book, leaving his hand in-between the pages to mark his spot. “Is there something I can help you with?”

The Prince’s eyes flicker to meet his, but then quickly turns back downwards. He shakes his head. “No. I just wanted to… Thanks for the help today.”

Ignis had assumed the Prince was simply quiet and stoic, but he’s turning out to be quite the shy fellow. It’s a bit endearing. A side of his mouth quirks up. “You’re welcome,” he says. “It’s what I’m here for.”

* * *

“Have you gotten a response back from the university yet?”

Even though his mother can’t see him through the phone, Ignis shakes his head. “No.” The doors of the Insomnia Public Library closes behind him as he makes his way down the front steps to the street below.

His mother lets out a huff, sounding frustrated and a bit desperate. Ignis knows it’s on his part and he appreciates it, but he doesn’t want her worrying about this even more than she should be. In an attempt to assure her, he quickly adds, “I’m sure it’ll come in the mail sometime soon. I did send this one out later than the others, so chances are likely that they haven’t gotten around to my application yet.”

To his relief, his mother believes him, her tone brightening from his false reassurance. The dishonesty discomforts him, but he tells himself it’s for a good reason. She knows that Valryja is the top school he wants to be accepted into. It’s the primary reason he’s worked so hard in—and out of—school and he’s started to become concerned that it’ll all result in nothing. It’s been months since he sent in an application. He pushes away the worry as he continues conversing with his mother and waits for the train that will take him to the outskirts of the city.

“I’ll come visit you tomorrow, alright?”

His mother laughs. “No need to prepare a meal for the entire hospital this time, Ignis.”

Ignis laughs along with her. “I told you. That was all for you to eat throughout the week.”

“The hospital has nowhere I can store all that food! I might as well share it with the other patients,” his mother says. She pauses at the sound of the train arriving in the station. “Where are you headed off to now?”

“Heading home. I just finished my shift at the library.” Another lie. Ignis feels worse about this one, but again he tells himself it’s for a good reason—even though he’s only been able to convince a small part of himself that it is, and it doesn’t stop the feeling that his intestines are twisting in his belly as his mother believes him, her cheerful voice telling him to make it home safely and take it easy. He steps onto the train, finds himself a seat to slump into, and tries to ignore the awfulness spreading inside of him, hanging up from the call with something that is more like suffocation than relief.

* * *

Rapture is tucked away towards the outer edge of the red light district where the more downtrodden brothels are located, away from the brightly lit and busy center. It’s darker in comparison to those well-off establishments, but stands out from those around it due to the big, red sign in the front that lights up the name of the place—something that the ones around it don’t have, signaling that Rapture fares better, and promising a secrecy with its location that those in the center lack. It’s what drew Ignis to the place when he found himself here in search of a second job. That and the fact that Rapture is one of the few spots that offers the service of male prostitutes.

_Prostitute_ … Even now the word bites. Ignis tells himself that it’s only because he’s been employed here for less than a month and that there’s nothing inherently shameful about this line of work, but it’s a difficult thing to accept and he keeps his head down as he makes his way to Rapture’s backdoor. Mire, the door attendant, recognizes him and lets him in with a silent nod. They haven’t spoken a word at all to each other since Ignis started, but he’s seen the way Mire quietly interacts with the others and knows Mire does not treat him uncharacteristically.

The locker room is not busy, which is a relief. Rapture requires all of its employees to strip and leave behind their garments in a locker before they go off to work; Ignis has begun to hate the way bare skin brushes against his when the small space is crowded with too many bodies. It makes him feel like choking, which is a feeling that has lessened throughout the weeks, but Ignis still prefers to keep to himself as much as possible when he is able to. He doesn’t talk with the other two workers in the locker room, involuntarily listening to them laugh and discuss some clients as he undresses. He finds a locker at the top that he’s gotten in the habit of using, marked with a lock that he bought himself to keep his clothes and his glasses from being stolen.

One of the men calls out to Ignis as he leaves. “Have fun out there!”

Ignis gives him a polite smile. “Thank you.”

* * *

Ignis is assigned to a room located towards the end of one of the hallways; the door marked with the number 15. From what he’s seen, all the rooms are the same with a twin-sized bed in a corner and lit up with red lighting that’s pale enough to pass as pink, but there are rooms—including number 15—that have a loveseat on the opposite side of the room from the bed, bottles of alcohol placed on a tray with empty cups on the coffee table in front of it. Ignis has learned that there’s an important difference between these rooms: The rooms with beds are for clients who only request sexual activities. The rooms with the loveseat are for clients who want conversation alongside the sexual acts, which is where Ignis has found himself being positioned in on more and more occasions. It’s taxing work, but Ignis notices that he gets a bigger tip from these clients. Although the increased monetary reward doesn’t make things completely better, Ignis can’t help but admit to himself that it makes it all more worth it.

His shift doesn’t start for another half hour, but he’s arrived early in order to prepare himself. Mentally, he occupies himself with an outline of how he’s learned to progress with clients: Invite them to the loveseat, pour them alcohol, ask them about their day, listen with occasional remarks to reassure and better their mood, and… Well, Ignis will go through the steps of what happens afterwards when it comes to it. Physically, he squeezes some lube from a bottle he’s bought (thank goodness he’s old enough to purchase one) onto his fingers and carefully slips them inside of him one by one. It’s a precautionary measure. Some clients want to be the bottom, but more often than not, they prefer to top—and Ignis does not want to repeat any of the painful mistakes he made at the beginning. In addition, he’s learned to start regulating his diet in order to avoid any further mishaps. Some of the other workers have been helpful in giving him tips on the matter.

Once he’s done with preparations, Ignis sits down on the loveseat, rearranging the folds of the red robe that he wears. It’s a tad too short for him, but this works to his advantage, showing off enough to satisfy but also hiding enough to be alluring, and he arranges his arms and legs in a manner he hopes will be just as inviting, lying slightly back with his head tilted to the side to expose his throat.

There’s a knock at the door.

Ignis takes a quick deep breath. “Come in!”

The door is locked, but Andeka (who’s in charge of the front desk) gives the clients keys to their assigned room, so that they can unlock the door for themselves. Ignis and the other workers are not allowed to unlock the door from their end during sessions. He waits for the client to open the door, takes another deep breath, and is greeted with the sight of a man dressed in a dark suit. A black mask covers the bottom half of his face, but this isn’t unusual. There are clients who prefer their identities to be kept a secret.

After giving the client enough time to take in the sight of him, Ignis puts on a smile, gets up from the sofa, and makes his way over to where the client is standing, trying to ignore the intensity of the gaze that’s directed at him. “My name is Scientia,” he says, lowly. The nearer he gets, the more he realizes that he’s taller than the man, so he keeps his gaze directed downwards to give himself an appearance of submissiveness. “Would you care for a drink, sir?”

Rather than answering, the client slips a hand underneath Ignis’s robe, running it over Ignis’s chest and down his side. “Undress for me.”

Ignis undoes the sash at his waist and slips the robe from his shoulders. It drops to his feet.

The client gives an approving nod. His hand moves further down to wrap around Ignis’s cock. “You’re a handsome boy.”

Ignis lets out a little moan, wanting to give the client the belief that he’s enjoying his touches. “T-Thank you, sir.”

The client chuckles. “I will enjoy myself tonight.”

It’s not a question, but Ignis senses that the client wants a response and quickly thinks through what he should say. He settles for returning the client’s habit of statements. “You will, sir.”

The client chuckles again, satisfied, and allows Ignis to pull him towards the loveseat.

* * *

If there’s anything Ignis has learned, it’s how to converse with a client whilst his mouth is busy with other matters. As the client drinks and talks about his day, Ignis multitasks between listening, talking, and the man’s cock, which is only difficult at first—before he learns what the client likes him to do with his tongue and mouth and hands. The client is complaining about his higher-ups at work when he is cut off by an orgasm, his hips rocking with it and his right hand pressing down on Ignis’s head, so that he’s unable to move as the man’s come fills his mouth. Ignis has gotten better at not choking, but it’s still something he has to work at looking like he enjoys and when the man grabs his chin to tilt his face up, Ignis quickly swallows down the come, holding back a grimace at the feeling of it going down his throat.

The client runs a thumb over his bottom lip. “Did you enjoy the taste of me, Scientia?”

Ignis nods. “I want more, sir.”

He can’t see it, but he’s sure the client smirks behind his mask. His voice sounds full of it. “Greedy, aren’t you?” He gets onto his own feet.

Ignis assumes that they will proceed to the bed, but is surprised by the client bending him over and shoving his face into the sofa. He’s thankful that the involuntary sound of alarm that comes out from him is smothered by the cushions, his heartbeat thudding in his ears as he becomes hyperaware of the client’s fingers trailing down his spine until they’re in-between his asscheeks and rubbing his hole. Ignis waits for fingers to slip inside of him—or even a cock—but then the client is slipping his face mask onto Ignis, tucking the straps behind his ears as he whispers, “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, boy?”

Ignis nods, repeatedly, making himself look eager. “Yes, yes. Please fuck me, sir.”

There’s a tongue in his ear. “How much do you want me to fuck you?” The mask slips over Ignis’s eyes.

Ignis is flipped over and moved onto the couch. He’s breathing heavily from being able to again after being smothered into the loveseat, but he also exaggerates it in order to appear restless and as if he’s anticipating what’s to come. He licks his lips and boldly says, “I want you to fuck me so much, sir, that I’m already imagining you thrusting inside of me.”

The client laughs, sounding happy with the response, but as Ignis blinks into the darkness of the mask covering his eyes, it sounds almost maniacal as well.

He wraps a hand around his own dick, working at it so that it gets harder. There’s nothing that displeases a client as much as a limp one. That’s something he hasn’t had to make a mistake on in order to know. The client spreads open his legs and carelessly pushes his cock inside. Ignis covers up the sharpness of it with a soft cry of pleasure, stretching it out and letting it become weaker until it’s replaced with panting as the client thrusts deeply into him again and again.

The next part does not take much brainwork. The clients often lose themselves in their own pleasure. All Ignis has to do is let out an occasional moan or word of encouragement, so for a moment, he drifts off in his thoughts, lets himself think about other things than how to please someone. He has an assignment due next week that he should start working on, but he wants more sleep tonight and decides to start on it tomorrow instead; although—he lets out a moan here (the client has started to quicken his thrusts)—there’s notes he took today that he should review since his math teacher has the tendency to give out pop quizzes.

Schoolwork slips out of his mind, is replaced with a pair of eyes that Ignis has trouble placing. His attempt to figure it out is interrupted by the client who has started to kiss him. Ignis returns the kiss, a sloppy, messy thing that’s too much tongue, but he slips his arms around the client’s neck, keeping him from pulling away, giving off the impression that he wants this kiss to go on. And as it’s going on, Ignis realizes that the blue eyes in his mind belong to the Prince; the memory of the brief glance and words they exchanged at the library following along afterwards.

The client pulls away and refocuses on his thrusting just as another realization occurs to Ignis. Today was not the first time he’s talked with the Prince. He remembers visiting the Citadel when he was five and his father had worked for the royal family. Ignis met the Prince that day, had talked with him then, and at the time, he’d thought it was a special playdate. Given what happened afterwards, it might as well have been.

He’s brought out of his thoughts by the sound of the client grunting. A moment later, Ignis feels him pulling out and then there’s the splattering of come on the skin of his thighs.

The client kisses him again; his dick, slick with come, grinding back-and-forth against Ignis’s stomach as he does. These kisses are better than the previous ones and if Ignis forgets where he is and who’s he with, he finds that he can genuinely enjoy it all; the sensations heightened by his lack of sight.

The client’s lips part from his, but there’s heavy breathing on Ignis’s mouth and the man’s words are close against his skin when he says, “I’m going to fuck you again.”

Ignis smiles. “Isn’t that what I’m here for?”

**Author's Note:**

> as you can probably tell, this fic is going to be half love story and half ignis doing sexy stuff with older guys. consider sticking around for the journey if that doesn't turn you off!
> 
> ((also, i know it's his uncle who was working for the royal family, but that's another detail i changed.))
> 
> more on the title: i couldn't figure out what i wanted it to be at first, but i was rereading a manga and it clicked. the manga is "blue lust" by hinako btw. it's angsty and tackles subjects of homophobia in the form of past regrets and friendships and trying to make amends, mixing together in a chaotic mess that the protagonist has to navigate. my summary is not that good (summaries might be the bane of my existence), but if any of that sounds interesting, then the manga can be read here: https://mangadex.org/title/18538/blue-lust
> 
> (((disclaimer that the place ignis works at is entirely written up from my imagination, so it's not an accurate reflection of how brothels actually function)))


End file.
